“OH, DON’T MENTION IT—I’VE NOT BEEN AT ALL BORED! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO IMAGINE WHAT I SHOULD DO TO MAKE THIS ROOM LOOK COMFORTABLE IF IT WERE MINE!”
“ICHABOD!”
GOG, loquitur:—
Here’s a pretty fine business, my MAGOG!!! Where are we a-drifting to now?
These here tears in my eyes you must twig; I detect the glum gloom on your brow.
Most natural, MAGOG, most natural! Loyal old giants, like us,
Must be cut to the heart by these times, which they get every year wus and wus!
It’s Ikybod, MAGOG; I see it a-written all over the shop.
Our glory’s departed, old partner. And where is it going for to stop?